


A Plot of Dirt for my Sweet

by SmeagolMyNeagol



Category: The Walking Dead (TV), Walking Dead
Genre: Fluff, Fluffy, M/M, Negan Being Negan, Protective Carl, Slice of Life, cute negan, cute rick, farmer Rick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-29
Updated: 2017-06-10
Packaged: 2018-10-25 06:17:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10758447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmeagolMyNeagol/pseuds/SmeagolMyNeagol
Summary: Negan thought for sure Rick would side with him on what to do with the bare patch of land at the sanctuary. He didn't expect Rick, badass Rick motherfucking Grimes, to suggest farming.Rick is cute and likes to farm. Negan thinks that's stupid, until Carl talks some sense into him and convinces Negan to give Rick his farm. Negan acquiesces because he can't say no to the idea of Rick Grimes' smile.





	1. Incident

**Author's Note:**

> Haha here's a one shot. Just something cute because Rick is too cute and Negan is too cute. It's kinda silly, since it's so focused on farming. But... I farm... It's nice. I hope it's not too ooc. Please enjoy :)

"You shouldn't have treated him like that!" Carl had angrily stormed in unexpectedly into Negan's rooms, which was surprising not only because he, well, stormed in unexpectedly, but also because Negan didn't even know the kid was here. He probably slipped in through one of the supply trucks again, the sneaky little bastard.

"Jesus Christ, kid," he started, feeling exasperated and exhausted at the lip he'd received from the other Grimes man just a few hours prior.

"You Grimes' and your fucking glares. What the fuck did I do this time."

"Where do I start. I heard about what you said to my dad." Carl's glare intensified and he rounded on Negan, who had been shielding himself from the kid behind the tea table. Hey, Carl Grimes was a force to be reckoned with, he was in many ways scarier than his father, although Negan was more partial to the opinion that Rick was more cute than anything, but Carl? No one can blame him for being scared shitless of Carl. Especially when it came to things that concerned his dear daddy.

"What _I_ said? What I said was perfectly reasonable! Totally within the realm of shit I am allowed to fucking say." It really wasn't that bad. Well, the fight was not something Negan was proud to have participated in, but really, he can't give in to every one of Rick's silly little ventures.

They were looking at some empty land on the Sanctuary grounds. Negan had hauled Rick all the way from Alexandria, with the promise of a home-cooked meal (spaghetti, to be exact) prepared by yours truly, if Rick would only advise him on what he thought Negan should do with the unused land.

Really, having Rick's say was just a tie breaker between him and some of his higher ranking men, but Negan found himself actually anticipating what Rick had to say. The guy was badass, and although he was sure Rick would agree with his idea to build a munitions and weapons assembling area rather than a watch tower which would be a very redundant addition to the one not even 30 feet away from the area, he was curious to see if the man had any other ideas for the land.

What he wasn't expecting was Rick to stare wistfully at the dirt beneath his shoes, crouch down and sift it through his hands, then stare up at him with those pretty blue eyes, curly hair falling over his forehead, and with a sweet smile and a bit of a blush, say "How about farmland?" Which had Negan laughing for a good twenty seconds, mirthful at the prospect of wasting good land on something as silly as farming, and even more amused that Rick, badass, hard-as-nails Rick had said something so... Naive? Innocent?

Negan honestly couldn't say what about the way he said it was so funny, but nevertheless, he would not be wasting good land on silly farming. And he told Rick as much. Which was, evidently, the wrong thing to do, because he got defensive, with his whole "It's a good idea!" And Negan's whole "That's fucking stupid."

At some point, Rick got really defensive, eyes downcast, brows furrowed, and his head did that cute little side tilt thing, which was, admittedly, very distracting for Negan, but his resolve remained strong.

"Little Farmer Rick, out here with the beets and radishes," he said before bursting into another bout of laughter at Rick's expense.

"Maybe if you dumbasses were growing your own food, you wouldn't have had to beat people into submission just so they would work their asses off to keep you alive and fed." Rick flustered out, his cheeks were pink with the embarrassment of being laughed at for what he knew was a good idea.

Really, what Rick said was true, sure things were a lot better between the Sanctuary and it's former prisoner communities, but in the moment it didn't stop Negan from yelling out things he definitely regrets saying looking back on it.

"Well I guess strong men don't need to farm when there are weak men like you to take from." And that was the ticket. Rick's embarrassed blush transformed into an angered flush and he stormed off, but not before leaving Negan with one last thing, not an insult or a curse, that might have been better than the sincere and hurt-sounding words he left Negan with before going back to Alexandria.

"I was taught by someone who was very important to me. It made me a better man." His eyes were solemn, and Negan couldn't help but notice the painful enunciation on the word 'was'. He turned away from Negan then, and his shoulders seemed heavy, as if he was carrying a burden there now he hadn't been carrying before. "It'd do you good to try it too."

The implications of it, that Negan wasn't really a good man, had him feeling overwhelmingly guilty. He knew that Rick and he had made progress, Negan really treated the other communities with respect now, and his interactions with Rick had been friendly. Even when he flirted with the guy, there was always sincerity and a deeper meaning behind the frivolous words.

But the insinuation that Negan needed to farm because farming made someone a better man, well... That meant that Negan was not a good man. Or at least, he was a man that could stand to be bettered... Right? He had spent the next few hours lamenting on this. Fucking insecure from one word out of Rick Grime's pretty mouth...

And now his spawn is here, defending his honor or some shit. He must have said that last part out loud because Carl had blown up at him again, "I'm not doing anything about his honor, this is about him. His emotional state."

Those eyes, so much like Rick's, became ice cold and serious. They both were sat on the couches across from each other, Carl's line of sight almost to the height of that of Negan's. Jesus when did this kid get so big? When did he become a man, trying to protect his father?

"Kid, your dad isn't a little pussy." Negan couldn't help but defend Rick from what seemed to be Carl's attempt at emasculation.

"I know he's not, and having emotions doesn't make a guy a pussy." That's true. While Rick had to be one of the most emotional men he's ever seen, he's also the strongest. He was really way off base with that "Stronger men can take from the weak," Rick wasn't weak. Perhaps his idea was not so bad. If someone as strong as Rick felt so strongly about it, it couldn't be weak.

"Listen," Carl's expression morphed from angry to concerned, "he has so much that he cares about, and when he gets full, he sometimes bursts when something goes even slightly awry."

Now what the fuck is he talking about. "Bursts? The fuck, kid..." And there's that trademark Grimes Glare.

"He thought you were becoming more... Like him."

"More of a pussy?"

"More caring. More... Democratic. More open. That's what he's wanted for you. And the fact that you brushed off farming, which is kinda one of his core things, it really upset him."

Negan's eyes widened at that. Rick thought well of him? Not just that, he was rooting for him?

"The farming thing... He has this thing about it... I didn't really understand it first either, but then... As time went on I sort of understood. I guarantee you'll want to farm with him after you see him the first time." Carl regarded him with a look that suggested he was relaying some very important piece of wisdom.

"Why? Does he do it shirtless? Does he sweat?" Negan couldn't help but imagine. Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea...

"Gross. Shut up." Carl wrinkled his nose in disgust at Negan imagining his father like that. "You'll want to farm with him because... I don't know. He's happy when he does it." He looked at Negan expectedly.

"Happy? So what. I've seen him happy before." He thinks back to the many times he's been able to conjure a laugh out of Rick from a dirty joke, or the times when they've just talked for hours, and Rick looks at him with that soft smile, eyes aglow.

"Not like this. Trust me." Carl got up from his seat and headed to the door, seemingly done with their conversation. "Give him his farm. You won't regret it." He said with a final smirk behind him "Oh, and be nice to him. I hate it when he mopes around the house sullen and teary eyed. If you're going to make him cry, at least comfort him until he stops." Carl gave one last threatening glare, before turning and exiting the room, leaving Negan to his thoughts.

Negan couldn't help but wonder at what Rick looked like when he was farming. If he really loved it like Carl said, he could imagine Rick smiling as he tilled the dirt, laughing with joy during the first harvest, and caring for the crops in that way, that perfect way he did everything. Negan couldn't stop thinking about it. He thought about it that whole evening, the thoughts of what Rick would look like, what Rick would say, bouncing around in his head. He went to sleep thinking about it and he woke up thinking about it.

After two days of non stop mental dedication to exploring everything Rick-related to farming, Negan resolved that he would give Rick the farm.

What could be more important than Rick's smile? Munitions and weapons? _Fuck_ no.


	2. Repreive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Negan puts his plan into motion, Rick is lamenting on his emotional outburst, and is distressed to find Negan in his home with spaghetti. Again. Negan had wanted to have a conversation in which he would apologize a little... And then he'd lure Rick back to the sanctuary and present his gift, but Rick has plans of his own, albeit unintentional.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of people wanted a part two, and I tried my damndest. But it got too long, so there will have to be a third and final installment. Enjoy!

__Negan was ecstatic. At first, he was just plain ol' anticipatory, but as the time went on, he contemplated ways to spruce up the gift for Rick. He didn't know how to till dirt, not really, but he thought a chest or a little shed of tools immediately next to the plot of land would be an excellent addition that would fancy it up a bit.

These last few days after he had resigned to giving Rock the empty plot had been filled with thoughts of how Rick would react when he told him. It wasn't much, really, just a plot of dirt, but the sentiment behind it is was what really mattered to Rick, or so Carl had said.

He could just imagine Rick now, hunched over the dirt, sweat on his brow, picking cucumbers. Oh, how he'd grip those cucumbers, the thought alone had Negan's blood rushing.

He decided a simple tool shed would be appropriate, and here he was, walking all which ways around the land with his hands up and one eye closed, his fingers making framing shapes as he tried to decided where to build.

Finally settling for a square of land adjacent to both the plot and the mess hall, Negan enthusiastically began.

As he started the task of creating the tool shed, he couldn't help but think of the reaction his gift would bring Rick. His face softened as he imagined Rick seeing it for the first time: his eyes would widen in shock as he looked between Negan, the land, and the shed, and then back at Negan again. Then his brows would shift up and together, and his mouth would form a bewildered smile as that pink blush would rise to his cheeks a little. He might even get a little teary eyed.

And then he would throw himself at Negan, and beg to be sexed up in the shed.

Negan could just imagine it. But pretty soon he wouldn't have to just imagine.

He wiped the sweat from his brow, and glanced at the others he had enlisted to help him build the shed. Mostly men, some women, all working steadily to construct the building. They had been in the commerce room exchanging goods for points at various stations, but Negan had insisted that it wouldn't take more than an hour and a half if they all pitched in. And for the promise of extra points for their help, they had left their posts to help.

Sweat had been pouring off him for the better part of an hour, but through mostly his effort the shed was nearly finished. It didn't look half bad either. It was a simply square layout, as he had no blueprints, and the wood was a bit old and discolored from sitting on a scrap pile for a while, but give it a scrub and it'd look like something Negan would be fine with paying for, even by pre-apocalypse standards.

"It looks about done, boss-man." One of the men, Jeff or something, gestured to the piece of lumber adjacent to the wall structures. "I guess we just gotta hoist and secure the roof."

"Give me a hand, would ya?" Negan, Jeff, and several other men gripped the bottom of the heavy wood, and after a few "One, Two, Three"s they lifted the structure and rested it atop the four walls. "This is gonna be fucking spectacular," Negan rubbed his hands together, a grin on his face as he looked over the building.

"You're pretty excited about this shed. What'd you say it was for again?" Several of the guys looked slightly confused at Negan's mirth over the small building.

"It's a surprise. Now tell me," he put his arms around two men standing closest to him, "doesn't that make you just want to smile?" His grin grew impossible larger as he admired the shed.

"Yessiree Boys, this is definitely smile-worthy!" He seemed to be in a daze, as he clapped the men on the back, strolled off with a pep in his step and that goofy grin on his face, toward the trucks at the gate. "I know he's gonna smile." It's time to get Rick.

0000

Rick was on his way back from a run with Daryl, the two men ventured out not too far to the west, towards a little pit stop they didn't have much hope for, but didn't have a reason not to at least try to scavenge there. They were for the most part unsuccessful, as expected, but the drive to and back was entertaining enough to make it almost worthwhile.

"Turn this shit off. I had 'nuffa this on the way down." Daryl's eyes were pinched, he was either wincing or glaring at the dashboard, from which country music was emanating.

"Who doesn't love country?" Rick smirked teasingly in his direction, before turning his eyes back to the road again.

"Me. And a hell of a lotta other people too, shits awful." Daryl was definitely glaring at the dash now.

Rick's smirk widened, and he relented, shutting the CD player off. "If it'll get you to stop complain-"

They were close enough to see the gate of their home, and Rick had abruptly stopped talking when he noticed the truck parked outside.

"Somethin' up?" Daryl supplied at Rick's silence, glancing over at him, then out the windshield, where he noticed the truck too.

"Looks like that rat-bastard is back." Despite his words, Daryl sounded unperturbed at the realization that Negan was in their town.

Rick was silent for the few minutes it took to get to the gate, but by the time they pulled up, his hands were clutching the steering wheel tightly, knuckles white, brows downturned and face annoyed and laced with slight anxiety.

Rick pulled up beside the truck that was parked outside, and eased the car around the side of the large vehicle, as he made his way past, he could see that the drivers seat was empty. Whoever had come was inside the gate.

Hopefully he wasn't making damn spaghetti again, trying to woo him like last time. Hopefully, it isn't even Negan. It could be Dwight with some updates on any herds nearby. Rick blanched at the fact that the prospect of Dwight with some herd warnings is more desired than the idea of Negan coming for a visit.

Daryl waved out the window to Eugene, who disappeared behind the top of the wall, and soon the gate was opening.

Rick drove, slowly with trepidation and anxiety, forward towards the car lot, and once reaching his destination, Daryl exited quickly, getting out and stretching his legs. He almost wondered off, before he noticed Rick still in the car.

"What's wrong?" He bent down, peering at Rick through the car window.

"I just... I'm not too keen on the antics Negan has surely been up to since he's been here." Rick's eyes were downcast, looking at the steering wheel, before he looked up at Daryl, seemingly searching for advice. "And the antics that he'll probably get up to when I meet with him." Rick begrudgingly stood and exited the safety of the car, advancing forward to follow beside Daryl as they headed to the center of town.

"C'mon Rick, you're acting like a bimbo nervous for her first date. Just march in there, you know, in your house, and show him who's boss." Daryl's voice was growing louder as he left Rick's side, heading for Eric and Aaron's house. "You know that asshole just likes your attention, I wouldn't worry about him trying anything dangerous like."

As Daryl made his way up the house's porch steps, he craned his neck back towards Rick, "Aaron promised me food when I got back, I guess I'll see you tomorrow. Don't be a pussy, Rick, just go to your house and tell him to fuck off if you don't want to hear him." And then turning around he grumbled under his breath, "Fuck knows he'd do whatever you told him to."

Rick made a face, but didn't comment on the subject of Negan. "I'll see you tomorrow." He called out over his shoulder. As he continued on for the half-block to his house, he heard a door open behind him, and indistinct voices, no doubt Daryl and Aaron talking, before he heard the door shut, and the street was silent again.

Alone with his thoughts, Rick couldn't help but ponder what Negan wanted, if he was the one who had even come. Rick was still holding out for Dwight and his bad news about the herds.

Would he mention Rick's emotional outburst? Or would he pretend as if it never happened, and Rick and he were on perfectly normal terms? What was he here for?

Frustrated at his unanswered thoughts, Rick's shoulders seemed to bow, his back slumped, as if his thoughts were weighing down on him physically. They were sure doing that to his mental state.

He hadn't meant to inject him own personal grief on Negan, it wasn't right. Implying that Negan was not a good man was a low blow, he had really started to grow on Rick. It was clear that he changed, and some part of Rick hoped that Negan was beginning to care more. About people, about the communities, about Rick and his family. Negan visited Alexandria often, most days, in fact, and he was rarely there to do something other than hang around Rick's house, annoying Rick, cracking jokes with Carl, and playing with Judith, something that had Rick's eyes softening and his heart melting a little. The guy was sweet, he had really become a better man.

But sometimes he was too brash, too quick to judge and too quick to resort to violence or dangerous measures to do what he thought was right. When he said those things about Rick's proposition to use that free land as farmland, it had felt like an insult to Rick's person. Like, everything he went through was just a silly and useless blight against the greater destruction prevailing. Like maybe Negan hadn't and couldn't change. Rick knew that was just his grief for Hershel talking, Negan had changed so drastically, it was practically a one-eighty difference. He regretted what he said, and he was embarrassed about his outburst, he wanted to make things right, but he felt that maybe bringing it up would make it worse. If he just left it, maybe it would go away and he wouldn't have to face Negan.

He did have to face Negan, though. He had to face him now.

He slowly approached his house, making the climb up the short stairs that seemed much much too short, and here was at his front door much too soon. He knew now, being right outside his own residence, that the one who had driven the truck all the way from the sanctuary to Alexandria and was still here was, in fact, Negan. That boisterous laugher told all.

Rick wasn't sure how long he stayed outside his door, boots rubbing absentmindedly on the welcome mat, but as time went on he could make out a softer, higher pitched laugh.

That was enough standing around, he decided. Who knows what Negan is saying to make Carl laugh. The man is a pervert, and he seemed hellbent on turning Carl into one too.

The worst thing to come out of the alliance and subsequent friendly terms between the sanctuary and it's former prisoner communities, was, in Rick's mind, Negan and Carl's odd friendship.

While it was clear from Rick's past observations of the two together that Negan really did value and care for Carl, Rick wished his son would try, just try, to make some normal friends. Normal friends his age, maybe. Or even friends who weren't former-murderers with an inability to control both their libido and their mouth.

If he would just try. There were young men at the Kingdom, and there were two girls Carl's age at the Hilltop. Hell, there were kids at the Sanctuary, but the only person Carl was on especially friendly terms with there was one baseball wielding asshole.

Rick supposed the boy was too old for his age; he had seen and done too much. Perhaps his maturity was actually at the same level as Negan, which would make sense as Negan's level of maturity seemed to sometimes be the same as that of a teenage boy.

Wanting to save Carl from any further exposure to Negan's perverse nature, Rick finally entered the house, upon which he was greeted with that laughter again, which directed his eyes toward the source of the sound.

They were standing in the kitchen, Negan was at the sink, and Carl was next to him. Rick realized with some relief that they were washing and drying dishes. He let the door swing shut as he slowly made his way forward toward the kitchen.

Hearing the slam of the door, both Carl and Negan's eyes raised to Rick, Carl looking content, and Negan looking, oddly, ecstatic at the sight of him. He also had a strange predatory glint in his eyes, something Rick tried not to read too much into.

"Rick! You're finally home! We just finished eating. I made spaghetti," God fucking damnit, "your favorite." Negan's brows wagged at that. "I'll reheat it. Kid, you go. I'm gonna have that chat now."

"Yeah, okay. Dad, I'm going to Carol's. Enid wanted to read some new book she found. Be back before midnight," Carl moved past Negan, around the kitchen island, before he tuned and grumbled something to Negan under his breath that Rick thought was something like "Don't be a dick." But he couldn't be sure.

"I fed Judith, she's asleep upstairs. Be back, bye!" Carl had thrown over his shoulder as he ran out the front door, closing it behind him.

"Carl-" Rick hadn't managed to even call him back before the boy was halfway down the street, no doubt.

Rick's eyes had been on the door through which his son had vacated the house from for a few seconds before the sound of heavy boots against the hardwood floor had stirred him out of his daze.

"Rick, about last week," Rick had swiveled around slowly, stopping to face Negan. His arms were at his sides, and Rick noticed with some satisfaction that the man who always looked perpetually confident looked now to be awkward and troubled. That satisfaction soon ebbed at Negan's next words.

"We need to talk." He gestured toward the back porch, "Go on, I'll put the leftovers on, you're probably hungry."

Rick didn't say anything, he just headed towards the porch, resigned in the fact that this was going to happen sooner or later. He exited the house, and rested his tired body on one of the white wooden chairs that went with the picket fence around the perimeter of the yard.

Feeling increasingly exhausted from the day-long run, and now having to worry about whatever Negan was planning, Rick's eyelids started to droop after sitting for a few minutes. The evening was in full swing, crickets were chirping and a breeze was whistling through the trees.

"Please let him just drop it." He repeated it like a mantra in his head, as his body sagged more and more into the chair, his eyelids covering completely his blue orbs.

He must have been more tired than he realized, because when he became aware again Negan was sitting next to him, holding one of the fine china plates from the china closet.

"C'mon, sleeping beauty," Negan's voice was subdued, quiet and soothing, "you should eat something."

Rick was barely able to keep his eyes open, as the seconds ticked by he found he could hardly resist the pull of sleep. The only thing keeping him awake now was Negan's presence, and the uncomfortably cold breeze.

"Pl...s... Neg... C'me back... t'mrrow." Rick's head was lolling to the side, resting on the back of the chair.

"No no no, you've gotta eat. I mean it Rick, it's not healthy to skip meals. Especially these days." Negan's tone was patient, but amused. Rick was sure that if he would bring himself to open his eyes, he would see a smugly satisfied grin on Negan's face.

"N...no..." He really couldn't bear to sit for twenty minutes eating when he could be sleeping instead.

"Shh shh shh, Rick, just rest. I'll feed you." Rick was too far gone, too drugged with sleep to care about the ridiculousness of it. And the implications of it.

The spaghetti was warm and not overly sauced, but being that Rick was half asleep it still made a mess on his scruffy face, sauce no doubt splattered all over his lower jaw.

Negan must have been having fun with it too, the bastard, because Rick could hear huffed laughs next to him.

Eventually Rick found even chewing to be a hassle and he refused to continue. Negan relented, and Rick could hear him vacate his chair and renter the house.

It was not even ten seconds before he returned and took his seat again. Rick could feel a weight being placed on him, and he wasn't sure what it was, his mind too sleep addled to think anymore, it seemed.

Negan was saying something, but he was using that soft tone again, Rick couldn't make it out, and it put him to sleep even more so.

As consciousness left him, he felt an overwhelming sense of comfort and content, despite Negan's presence.

Or, perhaps, because of it. But he was too tired to think about that. He should have been worried about how the conversation they needed to have today would no doubt occur tomorrow, but in sleep he was only calm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you think? I know it was a bit boring, but the best is yet to come. The last chapter will be the actual confrontation between Rick and Negan. My apologies if there are any issues or awkward dialogue, I wrote this when I was falling asleep at like 2:am, i was barely concious of what I was writing tbh. I will try to write more soon! Please leave a comment telling me what you liked or didn't like. I read all the comments, they make me smile so much!


	3. Gift giving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rick makes false assumptions about Negan's reason for visiting, and Negan redeems himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, Smeag here. I'm finally done with this omg. Thank you lord for allowing me to finally finish this thing I am literally so done why the hell did this chapter take so long to write Jesus Christ.
> 
> Thanks so much everyone for waiting patiently for this fic, I apologize for taking so long.
> 
> PS some of this may seem a little similar to the last chapter, I wanted to write multiple POV on some scenes so it is a little redundant but I believe it adds something new to the story.

"Oh shit," the previously smooth-driving truck had suddenly swerved as several walkers were approaching the center of the road. Negan had spent the better part of the morning preparing for his trip and subsequent dinner date with Rick.

Rick was unaware of said date, but Negan is nothing if not full of surprises. Currently, he had been driving to Alexandria with a truck full of food stuffs; flour, tomatoes (thank the kingdom's garden), and some fresh lettuce, it anticipation that the former sheriff deputy wouldn't have everything necessary to make a spaghetti meal in his home.

He should have strapped that shit down though, because the more he swerved to avoid the ever-present dead on the road, the more the food items were slipping, sliding, and sometimes slamming around and against the truck's walls.

"I'm fucking driving here, you dead fuck!" Negan couldn't help but yell from the open window. His morning had gone well; he had found all the stuff he needed easily enough, though the kitchen aid, Manny or some shit, had raised an eyebrow at the items he had plundered from the stock room.

But he needed them. It was absolutely im-fucking-perative that he had the right ingredients and enough for himself, Rick, and Rick's kids. The little psychopath probably ate a lot, being a teenager and all, but on the other hand, his girl probably wouldn't, if she was still on baby food or whatever.

The objective was simple: Woo Rick through romantic gestures directed at both the man himself and his kids. There was a saying a friend once told him; the way to an attractive parent's heart is through his kids, and Negan intended to use Rick's kids to his full advantage.

Not that they weren't starting to grow on him. That little angel--Judith--especially, didn't take more than a mere second of holding her in his arms for Negan to fall in love, and every second he saw her since had his brain consumed with cementing his adoration of her in his mind.

The kid was just full of surprises. At first he was fun to rile up, but as time went on, Negan developed an actual relationship with him, he could feel affection growing for the kid. His eyes were so like his father's, but the boy was very much different in personality most of the time.

He seemed to be too old for his age, if that's possible. As if he had seen too much, which he most definitely had, and hell if Negan can't relate to that shit to the highest fucking degree. Plus, the kid was scary as fuck. He often found himself reiterating in his thoughts just how damn terrifying Carl was. Despite that, despite everything; his age, the way in which the two were introduced, and their violent pasts, Negan saw Carl as one of his good friends. A real friend.

So sure, Negan had fallen for Rick, and also for his kids, and so his dilemma was born. Distance himself, or go all fucking in? At first he tried to distance himself, fearing the inevitable shit-storm that was always sure to ensue should he, God forbid, catch feelings.

That day, last week, he had tried to push Rick away when the man had proposed that farming idea in a ridiculously attractive manner.

That face when he glanced up at Negan through his lashes, southern drawl thick and honeyed, soft curls that we're getting much too long to be practical falling over his forehead, a soft expression on his features.

It was too much. Negan had no clue if Rick would ever forgive him for what he did to him, to his group, his family. It may have been necessary at the time, but looking back on it he can't help but cringe at the person he'd been, and the reaction he'd forced from Rick.

As he passed the two mile mark to Alexandria, his knuckles tightened on the steering wheel just thinking about that whole situation.

Feelings, he was determined at first, were not to be caught. Not for Rick. But the pull was too strong. It was like the guy was a fucking magnet or some shit.

Even before they were on friendlier terms, that magnetic attraction had been there. Well, at least on Negan's side. He could feel himself being drawn to that damn southern pretty boy charm, and the fact that Rick was a badass proved also to be another factor in Negan's initial attraction to him. But after things got better, when his brutality finally relented thanks to Rick's effort, Negan could see that he also wanted Rick in another way than just physically or sexually. And like fuck would he ever be able to have him in that way. Not with what he's done to him. They may be on okay footing, but one wrong step, and he'd plunge into an abyss of despair, full of walkers and guts, and most definitely Rick-less.

And if being a rude asshole was the only way to keep Rick away so Negan could finally get his fucking bearings about him regarding this supremely fucked up situation, then he'd have t be an asshole. He may be a better man now, but like fuck was he going to show his cards in what he still considered was a game of life or death.

So he had been trying to distance himself from the man. If asshole-dictatorial-annoyance was the closest he could ever get to Rick, then he'd take it. As long as it meant he'd get to be close to him, he'd get to witness that fucking smile every once in a while, then he'd be fine with being asshole-dictatorial-annoyance zoned.

However, just recently, with Rick's son bursting into his quarters suddenly and running his mouth about Rick's reaction to Negan's unkindness... He had been contemplating revealing his hand... A lot. If took the risk, at least he would be a man. At least he could say "Fuck, I went all in, and yeah I got rejected, but I still have my pride as a man. Fuck you."  
  
As he neared the gates of the town, he could feel his gut twisting at the thought of Rick's inevitable rejection. It'd hurt, but pussying out was pretty much against Negan's very nature.

Steeling his face, and trying to calm his disturbed insides, Negan put the truck in park, and stepped out to rattle on the gate. He would've honked the truck's horn, but he really didn't want the whole of Alexandria to know he was there.

Since the shift in relations between the Saviors and the rest of the communities, many people had become annoyingly nosy when it came to the reason's behind Negan's visits. It's like, suddenly you stop slaughtering people and they think they can be all buddy-buddy and nosy-neighbor with you. Like fuck.

"Psst, open the fucking gate..." He was attempting to be more or less quiet so he wouldn't have to deal with said nosy neighbors. "...Please." He added as an afterthought after several seconds of silence.

"Negan?" It was that nerd, Eugene. His greasy head appeared atop the gate. "If you'll just hang tight for a short period, I will be down to open the gate." He nodded, either at Negan or at himself, Negan wasn't sure, before disappearing over the top of the gate.

Negan stepped over to the truck, gathering the supplies he had brought, turning his head to watch as the small, quaint town slowly appeared, bit by bit, as the sliding gate revealed trimmed trees, beautiful houses, and picket fences everywhere, as Eugene pried the gate open.

Hands full, Negan hobbled inside the town, crippled by the plentiful supplies being clutched at his sides, determined to make it in one trip.

"Sir, if I am allowed to say, i-it is fine to experience your presence," Eugene was stuttering as usual, and his face was mostly deadpan, albeit a slight touch of nervousness marred his face. "And even finer still, i-is it, to hear you actually address someone with a mannered request, and it not be in jest, but in all seriousness."

"Okay. Uh...fuck off." Really, Negan couldn't deal with this shit right now. "Unless your going to help me get this shit to Rick's house."

"I-I must kindly decline. I have a duty," his back was ramrod straight, as he began to slide the gate shut. "And, begging you pardon for how this may be received, but I'm not inclined to get into any quarrel with Rick over entering his place of residence while he is... Indisposed."

Negan had been hobbling away, ignoring Eugene after he heard his first reply, but upon hearing that Rick was apparently indisposed, what ever the fuck that means, he abruptly turned back towards Eugene, regarding him with confusion and probably some amount of pissed-offed-ness. Eugene had stopped at his sudden 180, brows furrowed and mouth tight.

"What did you just call Rick?" Where was he? Negan's mind couldn't help but imagine all the connotations of Eugene's words. None of them where wholly innocent, but surely Eugene didn't mean to run his dumbfuck mouth in that way.

"He is currently indisposed, as in, he is at the moment on a run." Eugene seemed to get impossibly more nervous, "accompanied by Daryl." He added as an afterthought.

"Well shit. When'd he leave?" He better get his cute ass back here in time for dinner, Negan didn't plan this whole thing just for no one to enjoy it. Although, the kids would probably appreciate a home-cooked meal, something he was sure Rick wasn't skilled in providing, judging by the gaunt appearance of the man and the kid, Rick didn't know how to cook for shit.

There's eating to live, and then there's living to eat. Negan liked to think he provided the means for the latter.

"He vacated the premises about 5 o'clock in the AM, s-sir." Eugene had left his side to venture back up to his post atop the gate, no doubt fearful of being next to Negan should the man have an outburst at the explanation of Rick's whereabouts.

"Well shit."

 

He had made it to Rick's house, no fucking thanks to Eugene, and found that the door was unlocked. Unsafe as hell, but he supposed that if someone were to get through the front gate, a door lock would provide little resistance anyway.

The kid must have been upstairs; he could hear a muffled voice and booted footsteps through the ceiling, which sounded like they were getting louder, until he could her them at the top of the steps.

"Dad? Is that you?" A cautious voice rang out through the silent house. The footfalls made their way down stairs, and Negan was greeted with the the sight of Carl, dressed in his usual slightly-too-small-and-tattered attire, holding protectively a cooing Judith.

"I prefer daddy, but not from you, kid." Negan actually appreciated the sight before him; it made his heart tighter to imagine coming home like this often, domestic as it was.

Carl on the other hand seemed less-than-thrilled to see him. "What the f-I mean-- what are you doing here?" He steeled his annoyance, asking calmly, aware of Judith in his arms.

"I'm here about that thing we talked about a few days ago. About that land." Negan moved to put down the items he was holding, hobbling towards the kitchen island.

"And... About Rick. I'm here to make dinner, make it up to him." He brought a hand up to scratch the back of his neck, embarrassed. "Spaghetti, his favorite."

Carl's demeanor had softened at that, his expression placid. "Well, you better get started then, he's due to be home in a few hours."

 

Negan was an okay sort of person. He had come a long way from what he once was, but his personality was still annoying and he was rash and violent sometimes. That being said, Carl saw the way he openly viewed his father, and he laid witness to the way Rick looked at Negan.

He knew his own father quite well, being his son and all, so it wasn't hard to speculate Rick's internal feelings towards Negan. He liked him. That much was clear. It was a sort of begrudging affection, like he didn't want to and wasn't consciously aware of it and thus wasn't able to stop it. But considering the way he acted around Negan as of late, it had become obvious to Carl that his father harbored something for the other man, something he probably would never act on should he even recognize it, that's just the kind of person Rick was. Always cautious and oblivious to others' feelings regarding himself.

Carl could tell that Negan had the same feelings for his father. Although he hadn't known the man nearly as long as he had known his own father, Negan wasn't exactly subtle. He was boisterous, and the way he paraded his emotions on his sleeve made it impossible for Carl to believe that Rick didn't see it.

Everyone else saw it. And it may have been that at first it had just been lewd and physical, but more and more, Carl could see the feelings developing. Actual feelings.

So when his dad had come home with a scowl on his face, his eyes downcast and his shoulders slumped, moping around the house, Carl knew it was time to pay Negan a visit.

He hoped Negan would adhere to his words of wisdom not only because of the friendship Carl shared with him, but also because of the feelings he had towards Rick. So when Negan had showed up in Alexandria, arms full of cooking supplies, Carl had accepted his presence without much rebuff, though he did give him a bit of a hard time at first, just because the man deserved to be knocked down a peg now and again.

He had worked quietly, occasionally humming or murmuring to himself as Carl went about his day as normal. The meal in question had been ready for a bit now, Negan was just waiting, anticipating Rick's arrival back home.

"I guess we better eat." Negan's dejected voice rang out swiftly from the kitchen, interrupting Carl who had been attempting to coax a word from Judith on the living room couch.

"He'll be back soon, you can just save some for him." Carl had tried to reassure him. "He's not staying away because you're here, you know." He began setting the table for the three of them. "How would he even know you came? Just give it a few hours."

"Yeah, I guess so. Well, we should at least eat, get your sister. I'll bring in the food." Negan didn't seem entirely convinced, nevertheless, he ate with the other two, asking occasionally about Carl and how things were.

  
The sun was just beginning to set, sitting on the precipice of the horizon, just barely dipping it's spherical body below the cover of the earth.

"I'll put Judith to sleep." Carl was gone for all of two minutes before returning to the kitchen, where a still-ill-contented Negan was packing the leftover food away in containers and placing it in the lacking fridge.

"You wash, I'll dry?" He gestured to the dishes.

"Sure kid, thanks." Negan smiled in spite of his mood, and they both began to make quick work of the dishes.

"So..." Negan's eyes were on the dishes, his expression crestfallen, but also a little curious. "Did your daddy seem to be... In better spirits this morning?"

"It was early when he left, so it was hard for me to read him. But he seemed despondent." Carl knew what Negan was getting to.

"Was it... Was it because of last week?" His eyes met Carl's, and his expression gave away his insecurity over the subject.

"It was because of a lot of things, I bet. But that was one of them. He does care about you, you know." Carl was a bit disturbed at Negan's incessant depression, so he figured it was time to throw the man a bone. "Even though he acts like you're the worst thing in the world, he's actually genuinely impressed with how you've changed."

Negan turned away then, his brows furrowing.

"It's just that sometimes you revert somewhat back to the asshole we knew at first, and that scares him. Those memories are still as fresh as if they happened yesterday for him."

"I-I... is this... Any help?" Negan gestured to himself, the to the saucy pot he was scrubbing. "I'm trying, kid. I'm really fucking trying here."

"I know."

"It's just that, what if... Even after all this trying, I'll still be that asshole to him? I was thinking that maybe it's better not to try, to save my self some pride." He stopped his ministrations, tilting his head up to look dejectedly at the ceiling, sighing.

"I know my dad. I know him better than anyone. Trust me when I say it's better to try with him than to just give up." He put a hand on Negan's shoulder, "Plus, with how far deep you're in, you probably couldn't give up even if you wanted to." He smirked at that, and Negan scoffed, but a reluctant grin was spreading over his face as well.

Carl's face turned serious, "If you want someone as good as him, you can't give it less than your hardest."

"Is this you giving me your blessing, kid? I gotta say, I'm really fucking grateful." His eyes were alight with ill conceived mirth.

"I know what will make my dad happy, and you seem like the closest fit. So yeah, I guess you could consider this my blessing to date my dad."

"Oh I plan on doing more than just dating him, but getting your blessing for that would be a tad fucking inappropriate, I think." He was full on laughing now, hands momentarily clutching a pan to his gut, trembling with the full-body guffaws.

"Just finish the damn dishes you deviant."

 

After a few more jabs and jokes, the dishes were nearly finished, when the sound of the door opening suddenly made them both glance upward.

"Rick! You're finally home. We just finished eating," Negan's voice betrayed a hint of nervousness, but his expression and body language was inviting, excited, even, at the sight of Rick. "Spaghetti, your favorite."

Carl let out a scoff at that, under his breath, aware that spaghetti wasn't necessarily Rick's favorite, per se, but it was definitely Negan's.

Rick was disheveled, curls falling over his face, the sweat making him appear to be glowing in the low lighting of the house. Negan discreetly licked his lips, he looked delicious.

"Kid, you go. I'm gonna have that chat now." Negan addressed Carl with a knowing smile.

The farewell that left Carl's lips was so rushed as he practically sprinted to the front door, Rick was barely able to understand that he was leaving for Enid's, and Judith had been taken care of for the night. It was almost as if the boy was desperate to get out of there as soon as Rick and Negan's eyes met.

Rick, in contrast, longed desperately for Carl to stay, wanting not to be left alone with Negan for the evening, but before he could even mutter a word in protest, the boy was already out the door and no doubt halfway down the street, on the way to his friends' house without a care for his father's impending panic attack at the prospect of facing Negan.

He refused to look at the man in the eyes, acquiescing to Negan's insistence to eat. He made his way to the porch, and sat nervously, waiting as Negan fiddled around in the kitchen, reheating the food.

His fatigue overtook him, and he could no longer keep his eyes open.

 

Negan's nerves became more on edge as soon as Rick walked through the front door. The mere presence of the man had him weak in the knees, but excited to see him nonetheless.

Upon exiting the house, his heart immediately melted when he laid eyes on Rick. He looked tired as hell, but even through his ruffled appearance, the sweat on his brow, his dirty curls, and the bags under his eyes, he was still quite a looker. Something about the weakness he was exuding in that moment, weakness that Negan had witnessed only briefly before, made something in him swell.

The man was as lounged out as he could be in that fancy chair, his bowed legs stretched out in front of him, head lolling back and to the side, resting entirely on the backing of the chair. He had conked out seemingly instantaneously, Negan was almost jealous of his ability to fall asleep to fast.

He couldn't help the small smile that found its way onto his lips at Rick's refusal to eat, a product of the man's exhaustion, quite obviously. Still, he wouldn't allow him to not at least have a bite to eat; with the way things were now, eating was more essential than ever, especially considering Rick's position in Alexandria and his status as a father to Carl and especially Judith.

So he fed him.

"N..n'gan. S-st..." Rick weakly protested, but his tiredness won out over his persistence to not be hand fed like a child.

Negan had considered the act of feeding another adult to be somewhat erotic, and with Rick, it was quite a pleasing sight. But more than that, the act of caring for him tugged at something inside Negan, and it felt good to perform an act so essential to life for Rick.

It felt like Rick needed him, in that moment, and to be needed by someone who so obviously didn't rely on anyone made Negan feel as if his prerogative in life was to be there for Rick, and that nothing could make him happier than providing for him.

"What have you done to me, Rick." Rick didn't respond, whether it was because he didn't hear Negan's soft tone or because he was already too far gone, Negan wasn't sure, maybe both.

With each bout of fitful resistance to every bite he fed Rick, Negan resigned that he would not get that much-anticipated chat with Rick, at least not this evening.

After Negan deemed the amount Rick had consumed substantial enough, he left his spot beside the sleeping man, retrieving a blanket from inside and placing it atop Rick's torso. He went inside again to clean up the dishes, returning after a short time.

"We'll talk tomorrow, I guess," he gently finagled his hands around Rick's smaller frame, lifting him easily enough, before making his way back into the house. He knew where Rick's room was, not that he was invited in. The raids he conducted during those first few unfriendly periods had enlightened him as to the inter-geography of the Grimes' house.

Negan made his way up the stairs, and he couldn't help but think back on those events; the attractive dread-haired woman was living in the same room as the man in Negan's arms, traces of her evident throughout both the room and the rest of the house. It didn't bother him at the time of discovery, but the insinuation that he was trying to move in on someone else's partner struck him as unnerving and he felt just a slight twinge of jealousy as his feelings for Rick became evident.

Or it would have, had he not known that the two had been split up for months now. Their physical separation, what with Michonne now living at Hilltop, and their emotional separation was clear in the way Rick interacted with her, and the way he interacted when her name was mentioned. Distant, a little sad, but wistful as a smile would eventually find its way onto his face as those interactions continued. The man in his arms was deep in sleep as he walked through the hallway, his eyeballs moving behind his lids, lashes twitching on his cheek as Negan opened the door on the left.

As he entered the room, his eyes couldn't help but document the lack of anything that could belong to another person besides Rick. He knew that the man didn't have much time for it anyway, romance that is, being a father and a leader. Even the way Rick conducted himself told him that he was alone in that sense.

He was driven, determined to get what he wanted at any cost, much like Negan himself. But where Negan was brutal, Rick was... Not exactly soft, per se, but more diplomatic. Through his strength, however, he often let slip a bit of somberness that betrayed his loneliness.

"Tomorrow, Rick, I'll make it up to you," Negan leaned down, laying Rick's limp body on the bed, "I fucking promise I will." He stood motionless above Rick, gazing down at the sleeping man for a few seconds before vacating his room, peeking across the hallway at a sleeping Judith.

Satisfied that both adorable individuals were asleep, he left the top floor in favor of the couch in the living room. It was only somewhat uncomfortable, probably an IKEA piece of shit, but his thoughts eventually lulled him asleep.

 

  
As Rick slowly gained consciousness, he got the distinct feeling of an uncomfortable filth all over his skin. His mouth, as well, felt grainy and gross, and his hair was damp with grease.

"Hmmmmmuh." He groaned as he lifted himself off the bed. "Whu-happnd.." He realized that he did not take a shower last night after the run, but he couldn't remember much about what else occurred after his farewell to Daryl.

He came home... Then what? He shot up in bed when he realized Negan was here. As it all came flooding back to him, he could feel his face burning and a scowl found its way into his features. That bastard and his damn spaghetti.

Being fed was emasculating, especially being fed by another grown ass man when the only reason for it was that he was too sleepy to feed himself. He groaned as he pulled himself out of bed, heading for the shower. A hot shower to wash away the filth on his skin and the thoughts in his mind was exactly what he needed.

As he shampooed his curls, he couldn't help but try to rationalize what had happened last night. Was Negan trying to embarrass him as a ploy to keep him under his power? But why would he still be on that when his recent behavior had shown he had changed? Or was he actually worried about Rick's health so much so that he would feed him himself? And why would he care anyway? Maybe it was all a dream?

With so many questions swimming around his head, Rick had resolved to settle for the last question being a reality. It was all a dream he conjured up in his head after an exhausting day on the run. Even if it wasn't true, he had to get his mind off the other possibilities somehow.

He finished in the shower, mind idle as he dressed and made his way to Judith's room. The sun was streaming through her blinds, it must be mid-morning, but she was not in the crib. He heard clanging and voices emanating from downstairs, so he ventured downstairs hurriedly.

Negan was at the stove, pouring a creamy batter into a pan. Judith was giggling in her chair at the table, her mouth full of pancakes, as Negan talked to her. Rick froze at the end of the steps, coming to the realization that last night was in fact not a dream.

"And then the pirate and the blacksmith started fighting, doing kartwheels and shi-uh...stuff inside the shed. The boss was still sleeping, even though they were being very loud. Then--oh, Rick!"

Rick remained rooted to the spot, startled at the domestic scene in front of him. He probably would have remained so, had Judith not turned to him at the sound of his name, reaching and crying out for him.

"H-hey sweetheart, c'mere." He snapped out of his trance, picking up Judith from her chair and cuddling her close before bouncing her gently. He kissed the top of her head, momentarily forgetting about his less-than-welcome guest in he room in favor of his precious daughter.

It was several minutes before he remembered Negan, and turned to him suddenly, only to be shocked to find the man's eyes were already on the pair, a smile spread on his lips. It was a sweet smile, sincere, and it made Negan look, dare he think, handsome.

"Well aren't you two just the cutest fuckin' things." They stayed like that for an indeterminable time, Rick couldn't tell how long, Negan staring at Rick, Rick staring at Judith, and Judith babbling in Rick's arms, before they were blessedly startled out of their staring contest by the front door opening.

"Hey. I slept at Carol's. She cooked scones. Did you guys eat?" Carl seemed unperturbed or perhaps unaware of the tense atmosphere he had broken with his appearance.

"Judy here did, she was a hungry little sucker. Why don't you take your sister for a stroll around the block? Your daddy and I gotta eat, and... Have a little talk."

"Let me get her dressed first." Carl reached for the girl, but Rick didn't make any move to give her up.

"Let me help. She had syrup, so she's sticky." Rick said hurriedly, not wanting to have to face Negan just yet.

He made his way upstairs, assuming Carl would follow, and by the sound of his heavy footfalls, he could tell he was.

"Uh... Okay. I'll just finish making the pancakes in the meantime." Rick could hear Negan's slightly dejected voice coming from the behind him.

They made quick work of Judith's mess, much to Rick's dismay.

"Did you have fun? Reading with Enid? If that's what you were doing..."

"Yeah, dad. And yeah, that's what we were doing." Carl responded to the awkward question with a flourish, regarding his father fondly. "Did you have fun? With Negan? Y'know... Eating, and... Talking? If that's what you were doing..." He imitated Rick's earlier question with a smirk.

Rick seemed to adopt a pink hue in his complexion, stuttering, "I-I didn't, we-it-"

"Okay dad, I'll take that as a yes,"

"Carl!" Now Rick was full on blushing.

"C'mon, Judy, let's go for a walk. Be back," Carl took a now clean and dressed Judith in his arms, sauntering out the bedroom door, "Have some more fun, but not too much," he chastised on his way out.

Rick could hear him walk down the steps, murmur something to Negan, presumably, and open and shut the front door, all the while Rick had remained standing shocked in the same position Carl had left him in, wondering when his son grew old enough to catch such things. When had their roles had become somewhat reversed, with Carl castigating him, and him being embarrassed about it?

"Rick, get your ass down here, would you please!"

He snapped out of his reverie, and followed the barked order, almost on auto pilot.

"I'm not French, but bon appe-fucking-tite, if I do say so myself."

Spread on the table was an assortment of pancakes, syrup and a small amount of fruits, probably from the small victory garden just outside the fence around the house.

"Sit down Rick, and let's talk." Negan's expression was serious, it hinted at nervousness, but Rick wasn't sure if he was reading the man right, because surely he couldn't be nervous about calling Rick out on his sensitivity and his impractical (as Negan no doubt classified them) ways.

He had been kind enough, it was almost as if he was softening Rick up, preparing him for when he would inevitably cut him down, that Rick had a hard time concentrating on his pancakes just thinking about the strange series of events that had led up to this unanticipated moment.

They ate in silence for several minutes, during which Rick tried to dis rat himself with the food, which wasn't hard considering it was quite enjoyable. Pre-end of the world, enjoyable even, if he didn't know any better, he would have thought it was made by a former-chef, not a former-gym teacher.

"I'm sorry." Negan broke the silence and Rick's daze, with those unexpected words.

He had been in such a state of contemplation, he wasn't sure if he heard him right.

"What?" His gaze lifted from his plate, and he level Negan with a bemused stare.

Brown eyes were already locked onto his, and Rick was struck with how anxious those brown eyes looked, realizing that his earlier inclination was indeed correct, Negan was in fact nervous.

"I'm sorry. About... That shit I said."

Confusion only multiplied by this clarification, Rick continued to stare at the other man.

Negan stared right back, his nervous expression only amplifying further as the seconds ticked by.

"You're sorry... For... What now?" There was no vitriol in Rick's tone, but Negan flinched as if he had been insulted. He stood slowly, both hands flat on the table on either side of his plate, leaning over towards Rick.

"I know you know what I'm talking about. You think I've insulted your morals, and I guess I did, and when I called you weak, and all that, well, it's not fucking true, and it's been eating away at me, because of how it went down, and I..." He broke off suddenly after the tirade, avoiding Rick's eyes.

It dawned on Rick what Negan was getting at, but the shock of where he had expected the conversation to go versus where it actually went left him speechless still.

"Uhhh..." He stood up from his seat slowly, and Negan straightened up, meeting his eyes.

"I was being a dumbass, which is funny because it's usually you being the dumbass," Negan slowly made his way around the table to Rick's side, eyes never leaving his own. "But the shit I said wasn't funny, and I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel like I didn't appreciate your input, 'cause I fucking do, you're the number one guy I look to for advise and shit, Rick, and... Well," Negan came face to face with Rick, peering down at him with softening brown eyes, "I enjoy your company... I mean," He looked upward towards the ceiling, exasperatedly running his fingers through his dark greased hair.

"Ah, fuck this middle school shit. I like you, Rick. A lot. You changed me for the better, I think, and we built a lot together. So I feel compelled to make sure you know that I am sorry for what I said, and I want to make it up to you."

Rick for his part, was taking it quite well. He felt an enormous relief at Negan's words, thankful that the man was not interested in taking another pound of flesh, emotionally, from him.

After getting over the fact that he would be chewed out for his emotional outburst several days ago, Rick couldn't help but focus on the last segment of Negan's confession.

"You... Like me...? ...enjoy my company?" He sat down in his seat, still facing Negan, eyes level with his abdomen, but staring off into space, contemplating what he just heard. "What you mean is, you don't hate my guts?"

It was plausible, in Rick's mind, that Negan didn't outright hate him anymore. With Rick's growing feelings toward the other man, it was all he could hope for. Surely Negan didn't mean it any other way, did he?

"Of course I don't hate you, Rick. I never really did," Negan leant over so he was eye level with Rick, placing his big hands on Rick's shoulders, staring into his eyes with hooded orbs.

"I really fucking like you, Rick Grimes." For a split second, his eyes left Rick's to snap down to his lips, then back to his eyes again, so fast Rick was sure he imagined it. He could feel Negan's breath on his lips, smell his hair gel, and see every detail of his scruffy beard as his eyes too traveled down to Negan's lips, remaining there, wanting.

"Me, too." He nearly whispered, before the pull of attraction was too much for him and he gave into his desire, pressing his lips heatedly against Negan's.

Negan jumped, startled at first, and Rick wondered if he had misjudged the situation. It had seemed so sensual, how could Negan have been trying for anything else? But could Rick have been going crazy this whole time? Was Negan about to shove him off and look at him with confusion, anger, or God forbid, disgust?

None of that happened, however. Negan, after a second of recovery from the sudden turn of events, returned the kiss wholeheartedly. Very, very wholeheartedly. He was as all-consuming as Rick had previously experienced in his day-to-day interactions with the man. He was dominant, but not cruel, his hands coming up to cup either side of Rick's face, while Rick's hands twisted around his midsection, hesitant but longingly.

The kiss lasted for some time, pent up emotions spurring both of them on, before they both broke away, panting as their eyes met once again.

"So... Is it safe to assume you enjoy my company as well?" Negan said, smiling as one of his hands on his face came up to ruffle his messy curls, brushing them onto his forehead.

Rick smiled, his expression shining with relief and happiness, before leaning in to kiss Negan once again, breaking it off after a few seconds, "Does that answer your question?"

 

"I want to make it up to you. Okay? So just shut up and--GET OFF THE STREET YOU DEAD FUCK!!" Negan was driving the truck back, avoiding the undead, Rick was in the passenger seat. They left Alexandria after Carl returned and put Judith in for a nap. Negan insisted Rick come back to the sanctuary with him, saying he had some gift or something for him to make up for "that rude shit I said." Rick had asked Daryl to check on them, though Carl assured him he didn't need a babysitter, and then they were off.

While Negan's road rage towards the walkers littering the streets here and there was amusing, Rick couldn't help but wonder just what Negan had up his sleeve.

"You'll love it, I promise." Negan had assured him when he had asked as much.

When they arrived, Negan parked the truck and made his way over near one of the watchtowers, where Rick recognized as the land he was trying to decide what to do with, the very thing that had started this whole debacle.

There weren't many people out, probably eating lunch in the cafeteria.

"What is...oh." He came to stop behind Negan, who turned to him, his expression hopeful.

"I want you to have it. Make it farmland. It's a really good idea. And this way we could be more self-sustainable, like you said." Negan crossed his arms, not meeting Rick's eyes, seemingly embarrassed.

"Negan I..." Negan turned to him, "Thank you. This is... Really thoughtful." Rick smiled, gazing up at Negan, truly happy for the gift.

Negan was stunned by that look, stuck staring at Rick in the full light of the afternoon sun, light caught in his blue eyes and curly hair, his contagious smile spreading to Negan's face as well. "There's that smile."

After several seconds of committing Rick's face to memory, he bent over the dirt, running his hand through it, before looking up at Rick, the sun behind him silhouetting his thin frame, Negan asked, "Would you teach me?"

Rick squatted down to his level, his smile so big now that it nearly closed his eyes, "Of course."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! And thanks for all your comments, they really inspired me to actually finish thi fic and not leave you guys high and dry like some unwatered crops in the summer. Haha farming joke, get it? I recently started farming again only to realize that I hate it so much omg. 
> 
> Sorry, I'm just ranting because I am so relieved to be finished with this. Anyway I am honestly so grateful for all the comments you guys left on this fic, and whatnot, and all the kudos as well. Thanks for reading guys!


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